


Quinn Encores

by thedeadflag



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:44:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadflag/pseuds/thedeadflag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn-centric pieces from my FFnet Encores archive. Mostly quinntana, with the occasional Quinn POV of something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn is everything Rachel isn’t. This is important to Quinn.

Quinn had a boyfriend. Of course, she was the head cheerleader, daughter of a wealthy, influential protestant family, so not just any boy would do to hold that title. No, her boy was the popular head quarterback, tall, handsome, owned an oddly charming smile; he was as good a boy you could find in Lima to hold the title, so Quinn had naturally chosen him. Together, they ruled the school as the power couple. It was simply how things were supposed to be. Girls like her needed boyfriends, and she had Finn Hudson. She had the best around.

However, it was all kind of a coincidence. The social intangibles were a draw, true, but she had different reasons for dating him. For instance, he was really tall. This, ultimately, was the main reason she was dating him; Finn was so huge that it would be impossible to imagine Rachel in his place whenever they hugged or kissed or got remotely intimate. His skin was rough and calloused, a vast difference from what little she'd felt of Rachel's skin in passing moments. His eyes were a lighter, duller brown, and much smaller than Rachel's large, intensely brown orbs. It was the same way that his hair was much duller and shorter than Rachel's long, smooth, thick brown hair. His lips were small and thin, while her lips looked luscious and plump. He stumbled over his words constantly due to his lack of wit and low intelligence, where Rachel was talkative and incredibly smart. Finn lacked direction and ambition outside of a minimal interest in football, where Rachel was incredibly ambitious and passionate in everything she did. He was a horrible dancer, while Rachel was elegant and graceful. He always smelled like Old Spice, while Rachel had a different scent for each season and occasionally on special events. His voice was lower, more monotone, with a lack of power behind it, whereas Rachel's was a pretty sing-song sort of voice, and much lighter; the diva's vocals were so emotive and powerful that she often had a difficult time containing her own feelings. Finn just never was able to have that effect on her.

He had an uncertain, evasive sort of enthusiasm, while Rachel was always excited about something; the diva could always focus on something to keep her balanced. Finn drank and tried to pressure her for sex all the time, while Rachel abstained from both liquor and sex, while still holding the opinion that sex was a good, healthy action. Not that Quinn was going to have sex any time soon, but she had moved past the thought of it being a horrible, sinful deed. Most girls did certain things in their private time, and she'd learned that while she rarely did it, it wasn't a horrible sin. At least, she didn't feel it was. After all, Rachel had given her the courage to, at least where she could afford to, distance herself from her familial and social expectations. Even if most of her efforts and newfound freedoms weren't visible, it was invigorating, and Rachel was her primary motivator.

But with each day, Rachel's ambition and drive rubbed off on her. With each day, life seemed a little brighter, a little more promising. That maybe she'd leave Lima after graduation. So what if she kind of hoped to find herself in New York City in the future? Maybe she'd still be with a boyfriend, maybe she wouldn't have Rachel, but she would have gained a lot with the brunette's help either way. And that was something Finn couldn't offer her. Rachel's influence actually meant something, it made a difference in her life. It just didn't seem too horrible to hope that she'd have a chance to get closer, eventually, when she was strong enough.

Hope had never been a safe bet for the Fabrays, her family had always focused on faith. But maybe it was okay for Quinn to have a bit of faith in Rachel too. And maybe, whenever she was feeling particularly good, and saw the diva, she'd whistle 'Say a Little Prayer'. At least, when it was safe to.

So Quinn had to keep her distance. It just wasn't safe to be near the diva, yet. Finn, he was safe. He was her boyfriend. The word 'girlfriend' wasn't even in her family's vocabulary. She was pretty sure it shouldn't even be in her own, and that it likely wasn't in Rachel's either, so Quinn decided to be safe for both of them. She had a boyfriend in Finn Hudson, and Rachel liked Finn. So she'd hold onto him, she'd stay safe, and keep Rachel from settling with someone beneath her standards. And maybe, once she got the courage, and if Rachel was still single, she'd ditch the best boy around and try for the best person around. Even if she didn't match up. And maybe that would be good, to be in a position where being a Fabray simply didn't matter, didn't have any effect on who she was. Where the value of her character meant more than anything.

And maybe, one day, Rachel would actually see her, and like what she saw. With Rachel's unwitting help, Quinn had faith that she could one day be an unsafe option for the diva. Rachel deserved someone who was just as challenging, incredible and ambitious as her Broadway dreams, after all.

But for now, she had Finn. She had a boyfriend. Because she was just a girl. But she'd be a woman one day. And like Rachel, she'd keep her eyes on the prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Kind of just had this idea hit me today. Was a bit of a rambling mess of thoughts that spilled from my fingers to my word document, but I hope it was enjoyable. Kind of wanted to toss a shred of faberry in there. If I'm honest, I like reading it more than writing it, simply because so many people already write faberry that I don't really feel like I'm contributing much at all. Don't get me wrong, I like the pairing, I'm comfortable writing Quinn, and I might write more legit faberry stuff in the future, I just like writing pezberry and quinntana more (and they're such under-served audiences, IMO). So while I have a few cute faberry ideas, you'll see more of the other two pairings and friendships.


	2. Truth Serum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn wants to get out of school early without the consequences. Luckily, something springs up to give her the opportunity. Unluckily, it has her former BFF swarmed and tormented by her fellow gleeks. With hot pink hair and looking like she literally was dragged out of bed that morning, she doesn’t look the part of the hero rescuing the damsel in distress, nor is Santana a damsel, but it hardly seems to matter when Santana can’t stop telling the truth. (One-shot, Quinn/Santana romance)

It began like any other Tuesday Quinn had experienced that senior year. Dull, dreary, inexorably tiresome. Perhaps she'd been expressing herself in a way that positioned her far away from the inherent commonality of Lima, Ohio as a means to separate herself from its former ties to her identity, but it didn't change the nature of the town. It didn't change that every day through the first few weeks of school had Quinn feeling that if she wasn't careful, her future could die in that school, and she'd be stuck with a slew of aging Neanderthals working at a grocer for the rest of her life, and having to listen to petty gossip until her hearing would thankfully go.

Life kind of sucked, and while she really did want out of Lima, it was hard to really see how she'd accomplish that. Quinn knew, looking back over her high school career, she didn't have much to show for it. A few Cheerio championships, yes, and decent grades, but what else? A baby she spent nine months creating only to lose her? Her one perfect thing?

And while it may be a simplified argument, she knew it to be true. To have success, you needed to excel at something, or be or have something that was perfect, or at least neared perfection. Rachel, for instance, would get out of Lima and have a brilliant career on Broadway due to her singing ability and determination. Mike would get out of Lima with his perfect dancing skills and focus. Heather Collinsworth in her AP English class would get out of Lima with her ridiculous grades in all things science and the internship she'd had at Miami U this past summer.

But the rest of them? Finn wasn't good enough at football or anything else to leave. Same with Sam, and Puck. Mercedes could sing, but lacked the drive or business awareness to make it out successfully, though she wouldn't put it past the girl to try for it, even if she'd end up burning out in the west coast. Brittany was a skilled dancer, as good as Mike, but lacked the smarts or wit to get herself into a position where she could rise to the top. Kurt could make it in the fashion world if he got tremendously lucky, but lacked the chops to be a performer. Santana, like her, excelled at cheerleading, but that had no future. At least, no future that paid better than minimum wage, so what had all their hard work accounted for?

But if Quinn had kept Beth, perhaps she could manage to be a great mother. Maybe not the best or most stereotypical feminist career path, but it was the closest thing to perfection she knew she'd ever reach. But Beth was gone, and so was her hope. So the struggle became whether to hit the books in hopes her grades could carry her away to someplace better, or if she'd just let life run its course and resign herself to the fact that there really wasn't much hope left for her or others in her graduating class. Soon, for so many, the boring routine of heading to school every Tuesday would be replaced by the boring routine of working a low wage job in Lima every Tuesday.

However, leave it to Santana Lopez to buck tradition and spice things up.

* * *

Quinn had managed to get through her first two classes of the day before realizing she didn't really feel like attending school for the rest of the day. A plan quickly formulated in her mind, sleeping through her next class before heading off to the glee club meet-up right afterward; Schue had always been predictably over-concerned about the gleeks, and simply acting like she was ill would get her a free recommendation from Schue to the school nurse that she go home to rest. Given the nurse was always too lazy to deny such a request, it was pretty much a cakewalk. Sure, she could have skipped the rest of the day, but given she'd already done so four times in the past two weeks, it would result in suspension and a phone-call home, and Quinn didn't exactly want that to happen. Gaming the system to get what she wanted also seemed a little more exciting, anyway.

It all seemed like a perfect plan, at least until she reached the choir room and found Finn, facing into the room, blocking her from moving through the doorway. It was then that she realized that the noise from inside wasn't just usual glee club dramatics, but instead everyone seemed to be freaking out about Santana.

Quinn peeked her head under Finn's arm, spotting Santana covering her ears tightly with both of her hands, furiously yelling Spanish at anyone who was moving to get closer to her, or who was blocking her exit from the room. The girl was at the other end of the room, trying the alternate exit, but Puck was blocking that one too, as was Schue, which seemed absurd given he was a teacher, and all, not a child.

She couldn't help but sigh at how out of control the place was; all she'd wanted was to stagger in, fake sick for ten to fifteen minutes, and get the rest of the day off. Dealing with whatever this was just didn't seem worth the hassle.

Until Santana spun around and tromped back toward Finn, her mascara streaking down her face, the sight drowning out the rest of the noise assaulting Quinn's ears. They might not have been teammates anymore, but Santana was still someone Quinn counted as a friend these days, and she wasn't about to let the gleeks play some twisted monkey in the middle game with her.

With a swift knee to Finn's nethers, she pushed the boy aside enough to squeeze into the room, doing her best to filter out all the voices that were well on their way to giving her a headache. "What the hell is going on in here, Berry?" She called across the room to the entirely lost looking diva. Rachel, unlike the others, was still in her seat and looking positively flustered and like she had no idea what to do to settle everyone down.

Quinn could have called on someone else, but Rachel had a loud enough voice to project it over everyone else, and she seemed like she wanted to get this crap over with as well. The diva's head spun toward her at the question, the girl's slight frame regaining proper posture for some dumb reason. Quinn knew proper posture had its time and place, and it wasn't during a glee club dramatic crisis.

"Santana can't stop telling the truth and SOME of us can't refrain from badgering her with questions!" Rachel called out, her gaze flickering toward the gossip hounds and Puck when referencing those who were instigating the situation. The diva stood up from her seat and crossed over to her, Berry's voice growing softer from the reduced distance. "She's already revealed a number of things she didn't want to, and...despite not really understanding of how this even happened in the first place, I'd prefer she not be subject to more breaches of her privacy. I could use your help, Quinn."

Quinn nodded, though her brain was working hard to understand how it was even possible to only be able to tell the truth. That just seemed like something out of the movies, nothing that could happen in real life, especially not in Lima. Still, Santana was upset, and Quinn felt Rachel was trustworthy enough to take the situation at face value.

She shifted past Rachel, pushed Kurt and Mercedes away from in front of Santana where they'd been yelling, and took hold of the cheerleader's bicep. Giving Santana one of the silent hand signals she'd use to begin a choreographed exit from the field during cheer competitions, she led the girl toward Puck and Schue, focusing her steely gaze on the teacher while smacking away whatever gleeks where trying to get closer to Santana from her side.

"Santana's having a panic attack and needs to see the nurse. You'll be liable if you don't get out of the way." She stated firmly, challenging him to be the adult in this situation and do what was best for his students.

"Everyone's just a little confused right now, Quinn, and if we could just sit down and..." Schue began, prompting her to step into his personal space in hopes of showing how serious she was, and maybe playing off some of her bad-girl appearance she'd adopted recently.

"No, she needs help now, and this room is..." Quinn began, before smacking away Mercedes again as the girl tried yelling something against Santana's ears. "You do that again and I'll tear your throat out, Mercy! This room is out of control and she needs help!" She finished, turning her focus back to Schue, needing him to get his crap together for once.

Thankfully, he stepped aside and let Quinn and Santana squeeze through, Quinn silently racing Santana down the hall and into the Cheerios locker room. All Cheerio captains had a key to the team's storage closet, and she was banking on that to give them a bit of privacy to help Santana calm down and help her understand what was going on.

Thankfully, Santana clued in quickly, hands quickly reaching for her necklace and slipping it over her head, using the key attached to it to open the locker and dart in. Quinn watched as her friend immediately began flailing her fists against one of the practice mats, another surge of angry Spanish words filling the smallish enclosed space.

She let the girl work herself into exhaustion, waiting for Santana's attacks to slow enough before she braved a step or two closer, waiting for the ranting to be broken by a sob before she closed to distance and pulled her back into her arms. Santana was usually a pretty affectionate person unless she was angry, so it was a dicey call, but she was relieved when the girl sunk into her embrace, shoulders shaking as she cried. Quinn let herself just hold Santana, needing to let her have her space to deal with whatever had happened, only whispering soft, hushed words in hopes it would help reassure her friend that no matter what happened, they'd get through it.

Because hey, it might not be okay, but at least Santana wasn't alone.

* * *

Quinn wasn't sure how long it was before the crying stopped, but she'd heard at least two bells ring through the thick walls, meaning lunch had likely come and gone. And before she could react, so had Santana, bolting out of her grasp and from the storage room.

She'd been lazy, not exercising much at all since mid-July, but Quinn still found her way to her feet and bolted after her likely panicking friend. Santana tended to loathe being vulnerable in front of others, and had likely freaked out when she realized where she was, who she was with, and what would likely be asked after crying her heart out for about an hour.

She could hear Santana's footfalls in the empty hallways and used it to follow the girl toward the front of the school, feeling confused when Santana's rapid pace came to an immediate halt around the corner from the exit. However, when Quinn rounded the corner in chase, and saw one Rachel Berry holding a folder for class attendance standing a few feet from Santana, she wasn't so worried.

However, she was determined to set the tone for what was to come. "Rachel, we're gonna skip out for the rest of the day, so be a good captain and muzzle the gleeks for me, will you?" She asked, though her tone ensured that Berry understood it was a demand more than a request; though by the smile on Rachel's face, it was a welcome one.

"I've already chastised the club for their behaviour, and no one will be speaking of what happened in the meantime. I had Brittany collect everyone's cell-phones for the rest of the day to contain the situation, but I'll be informing you through text to let you know when they'll have them back. Not to pressure you into..." Rachel rambled, and while Quinn wouldn't mind hearing the breakdown of Berry's plan, Santana was edging toward the door and she didn't need another chase on her hands. As smoothly as she could, she shifted over beside Santana and took hold of her hand, feeling the other girl squeeze hers painfully tight in response.

A reward for showing her concern in public, of course. Just as the sustained looser grip was a show that she wouldn't run away again, at least not yet.

"I'm sure you have it handled, Rachel. Let me know over text, but for now, we gotta go." Quinn stated quickly, Santana taking that as a cue to usher the both of them outside, stepping out into the parking lot. It was mid-afternoon, warm, and clear; nothing out of the ordinary, which actually made for an odd feeling given what had supposedly happened earlier.

"Well, you've escorted me out Q, but I can head home from here. Go find your skanks and get back to delinquency." Santana muttered, shaking her hand away from Quinn's and challenging her with a glare that clearly was meant as a warning to step away. Quinn, however, had just gotten used to playing the rebel. She had no intention of stopping just yet.

"Fuck off, Santana." She said with a laugh, catching her old friend off guard enough to distract and grab hold of the skittish girl and begin leading her toward her car. Because heck, she wanted to make sure Santana was okay, but she also wanted someone to share the last half of the pizza at home. "I've got a meat lover's with your name on it in my fridge, and I know you get the craving for pizza when you have a shitty day."

"Bitch." Santana grumbled lowly, barely audible, allowing Quinn to lead her to her Volkswagen Beetle. As they strapped themselves in, she knew she'd been good at not asking any questions until then, but she couldn't help but feel stressed about what the future held. Clearly, something happened to Santana, and she wanted answers. Whether she was ready for them was an answer she herself didn't have quite yet.

* * *

The drive to Quinn's was fairly short, as she didn't live too far from the school. Thankfully, her mom was away visiting her sister in Chicago, so there wouldn't be any intrusions. Not that her mom wouldn't have just holed out in the den all night anyway, but still.

As expected, Santana made a beeline for the fridge and pulled out the cold pizza, giving it a cursory glance before nodding her approval to Quinn. She'd only eaten two slices the previous night, so most of it was left for Santana to devour into that black hole of a stomach.

During the drive, Quinn had considered what the best plan would be to help her friend out, and none of the options she'd thought up sounded remotely decent. Still, she needed a plan of action, and decided it was best to get one that would lure Santana to the table.

"So I'm still trying to wrap my head around whatever the gleeks did to you, and I'm honestly not sure what to think. So how about a little tit for tat?" Quinn offered as they sat down at her kitchen table, Santana reluctantly shifting her focus from the pizza to give the pink-haired girl a look that told her the cheerleader was clearly suspicious.

"No dice, Q. Not interested." Santana mumbled before taking a large bite of a slice, slumping back in her seat as euphoria took over her.

"And if I said I'd put up my autographed Spice World DVD and told you I'd answer any question you have with full honesty?" She countered quickly, causing Santana to nearly choke on her food, the girl needing a few seconds to swallow and regain her composure.

"Q...are you serious? Because that was, like, your holy grail. You went on about how it's a spice world for months after getting that signed." Santana noted warily, her narrowed eyes trying to discern whatever angle Quinn was working.

But she really wasn't working one, which had her smiling when her friend shot her a confused expression. "But San, it IS a spice world. And you could own proof of it. I just want to figure out what happened today so we can figure out how to handle it, but I can't do that if we don't talk." She stated calmly, offering the other girl a smile that she hoped was reassuring. Santana was always hard to peg in terms of what would make her happier at any given time, and a situation like the current one just complicated that dynamic even more. "San, we're friends...you can trust me."

The girl silently ate pizza as time ticked on by, first seconds, then minutes. When it was nearly thirty minutes later, and half the pizza was polished off, Santana lifted her gaze back to Quinn. "I ask first."

Quinn slowly got up from her chair and gestured toward the nearby staircase. "Sure. Let's head up to my room, you can finish your disappearing act with that pizza there." She said, softly padding her way up the stairs and into her room, deciding her window seat would be a good place to set up.

Of course, Santana had a similar thought, and sat down on the opposite end, their legs weaving in between each other's. "Why did you keep your pregnancy from me back in sophomore year?"

The first question was predictable; Santana was feeling vulnerable and angry, and it made sense that she'd be lashing out at her to make Quinn feel the same. And it did have her heart clenching a little at the memory, but she kept calm, knowing that after so long, Santana had earned the truth.

"You were dating Puck back then. We...well, our friendship was already on the rocks back then from all the pointless squabbling we'd do. I thought if I told you, I'd lose you. And I needed you...both as a friend, and to protect me and my position as captain." Quinn answered quietly, looking out over her street, watching the Malarchuk's dog play with the sprinkler that was watering their grass and plants. "I wanted to tell you, but I was scared and tried waiting for the right time, but it never came."

Santana nodded her head quietly at that, taking in the answer for a few seconds before inhaling another massive bite of pizza. Quinn looked at the girl's stomach and didn't even think it had expanded, which was unreal given the food she'd consumed. A black hole, indeed. "Your go, Q."

Quinn took a few seconds to let Santana prepare for what she would ask, knowing her friend was clearly anxious about it. "Why were the gleeks riling you up today?" She asked, figuring a general answer that Santana could probably control the message of was a good place to begin.

It clearly took Santana off guard, and the girl needed a second or two to hide her surprise and slip that mask of indifference back on. "They wanted answers, and for some stupid reason I kept telling the truth. Couldn't stop it." Santana answered, a hard edge in her voice that was all but expected. "I covered my ears, because they were all asking the craziest shit, and they were loud and my mouth kept spilling shit out, and I couldn't stop it. I just physically couldn't, and they knew it, and even though they COULD stop, they didn't."

Quinn frowned at the statement, the words only cementing her understanding of what had gone on in the choir room. Leave it to the gossip leeches and pervs to key on Santana's weird inability to lie and dig relentlessly into her mind and history.

"Did Russell ever hit you when he still lived here?" Santana blurted out, looking nervous as the words spilled from her mouth. Quinn grimaced at the question, though she was fairly sure it would be the last antagonistic question from Santana. Two was a pattern, and it would be enough to convince Santana she'd been standoffish enough to maintain whatever useless rep she was clinging onto at the moment.

"No. He never hit me." Quinn spoke slowly, her left foot reaching for one of Santana's, her toes lightly squeezing her friend's out of a desire to connect in some way. For once in her life, Santana didn't recoil and tease her about her freaky monkey feet. "But he did tell me whenever I disappointed him, and it happened a lot. He'd lord my mistakes and flaws over me, and if I didn't improve upon them, it's like...it's like he'd decide I wasn't worthy of his love. He never cared when I succeeded at school in sciences or math, or much of anything. But if I did my hair up nicely, or perfected no makeup-makeup, or had a boy 'court' me...I'd earn it back for a while. Until I disappointed him again. So no, he didn't hit me, but he did hurt me."

Quinn was pretty sure Santana muttered 'bastard' as she coughed, having a bit of trouble with a large piece of crust she'd been trying to swallow like a damn snake or whatever. It wasn't like she'd disagree if San spoke it louder. When Russell disowned her, she lost all love she held for him in her heart.

She knew it was her turn, and wanted to get into the heart of the issue, but she knew Santana would still balk at that point. While, sure, the girl would tell the truth, she didn't want to cause her any more hurt. She needed Santana to be ready.

"When did you notice this whole truth-telling thing was happening?" She asked instead of the plethora of other more pressing ones bouncing around in her mind. However, getting back to the start was important to get the ball rolling properly.

Santana shifted her gaze to the outdoors, though at least it only took a few seconds to get a response. "This morning, after my AP History class, Britt asked if I wanted to hang out with her and Artie after school today. And I'd usually just brush her off all nice and everything, because fuck, I'm not real excited to be Artie's friend, or hang around as the third wheel while they make out. This time though, I...I couldn't stop myself, and I kinda let out that I'd rather get kicked down a flight of stairs and turn into a cyborg. And Artie took offense to that, and Britt got that sad puppy pout, and asked why I'd prefer that. And I started panicking, because again, I'd brush it off, but..."

Quinn used her other monkey foot to lightly rub the one she was holding, hoping that it would help her friend through whatever struggle she was dealing with, and feel comfortable enough with her to continue.

The tiniest of smiles from Santana let her know it was appreciated, and after a calming breath, Santana finished her tale. "I told her she broke my heart, and I couldn't be around her when she was with him. I managed to not say it was because it hurt, but maybe it was because Artie asked me how I had the gall to say that after what I did." Santana added, shaking her head in frustration, clearly not wanting to continue, but another squeeze from Quinn's feet had a small grin showing on her face along with a muttered 'monkey freak' if she read San's lips right. "And I couldn't help but toss B under the bus because that first time I tried to get B to cheat on him with me way back when, I knew she saw through it, but still went with it. So...I think I hurt her, and our friendship, and maybe her and Artie's relationship. So yeah, that's really when I knew. At first, I thought maybe I was just pissed and letting it all go, but I would have never done that to B if I had control."

Quinn could see the anguish rippling under Santana's face, the fight to keep her composure visible and intense in her friend. With that in mind she leaned back against her pillow and offered a thankful smile. "I know you wouldn't, San. You're a good friend." She noted softly, fighting a playful grin. "And I'm not just saying that so you don't hit me with a hard question this round."

That earned an incredibly relieving laugh from Santana, even if her friend fought the accompanying smile. "I'll go easy on you, Q-ball. What's the most embarrassing thing you did this summer while you were a missing person?"

Quinn laughed, thankful that Santana was just making fun of her at this point. It was a good sign. "You might know it already, but...well, I got drunk. Really drunk on some of my dad's old scotch, and staggered downtown to get a tramp stamp with Ryan Seacrest's face on it." She couldn't help but laugh at herself, having needed a few weeks to get past the horror of what she'd done to herself. And it was heartwarming to hear Santana cackle along with her. "And if I'm continuing with that night at the most embarrassing thing, then we can add me buying seven whoppers at Burger King and vomiting on Rachel's walkway on the way home."

The final anecdote had Santana nearly falling off the window seat in stitches, her face red with humour as they laughed together at Berry's expense. Rachel, of course, hadn't been informed it had been her, but she had heard that the diva had rambled on about the dangers of passing one's tolerance for alcohol numerous times near the end of summer break. Quinn knew that she was responsible for at least two of those occasions; it wasn't like she wanted to, but her walkway had seemed like a really nice place to let go both times.

"Glad to hear you find it funny, San. I hope you can at least appreciate how mortified I was." She snarked, Santana snorting adorably in response. "Oh Santana, I'm oh so overwhelmed by your support in this. So sympathetic."

"You know it, Fabray." Santana managed between giggles as she worked down from her laughing fit. "God, that must look hilarious right above your ass. Any guy wanting to do doggy will be totes turned off."

Quinn smirked at her friend and cocked an eyebrow like old times. "You say that like it hadn't crossed my drunken mind back then."

"Oh come on, Q. Even I know you're not gonna stay celibate. Not only would it kill your new 'badass' image, it's just not feasible. I know Puck wasn't such a disaster that he killed your ability to hook up with other guys." Santana noted skeptically, crossing her arms across her chest, and Quinn felt fortunate that the girl was still wearing her Cheerios top, because had there been cleavage, there might have been a prolonged glance.

Yet, as she considered that possibility, it became clear that it wouldn't be the worst way to empathize with her friend's new situation. Still, Quinn knew it was best to keep her cards close to her chest until it was necessary.

"No, but I think I learned enough with him to know I wanted something different." Quinn stated cryptically, hoping Santana wouldn't jump to conclusions. She was running on the assumption that Santana firmly thought she was as heterosexual as possible, which would likely buy her time enough to stretch San's curiosity across their conversation.

"Fair enough. I guess it's your call again, Q. Just...fuck, you may as well ask at this point. No sense drawing it out, you know, blondie?" Santana asked sadly, enough for Quinn to toss over a throw pillow, knowing her friend needed something else to focus on during whatever would be revealed.

Once Santana had the pillow in her arms, Quinn leaned forward a bit, knitting her hands in her lap. "I'm not gonna ask you, San. I want you to tell me what happened on your own, and if you need me to after, I'll ask if you want things to get out that you can't will yourself to give. But you don't have to, and this counts as one of my questions anyway, okay?"

"Q...you could get whatever you want from me." Santana stated slowly, hesitantly, sliding to sit with her back to the window, pulling Quinn's feet into her lap.

"Everyone else took without caring, San. I only want what you're willing to give me." Quinn stated, knowing that her final statement was pretty damn generalizable past their discussion. Still, it remained true, that she didn't want Santana to feel forced about any of this. She needed to prove she was worth trusting with everything that San was struggling with, and what she'd face in the future if Quinn was right in her predictions.

Santana's hands found Quinn's feet and began slowly massaging them, eliciting an unsolicited purr from her, having always loved when her friend offered massages. If she had been the moral leader of the Cheerios, and if Brittany had been the happiness facilitator of the Cheerios, Santana had been the healer of the team. Despite how thorny San could be, the girl's ability to make others feel like magic had earned her a rep of being someone people could go to for a shoulder to cry on or for hands to soothe pain. It was a big reason why having San as her number two kept her safe from mutiny, and why the girl had the easy support of the Cheerios despite being in glee.

"No one talks to me in Glee. It just doesn't happen unless I talk first, so I figured maybe it'd be safe. I was on edge and needed a bit of music to relax, you know? I needed my brain to just shut off and go autopilot for a bit." Santana began, swallowing hard and taking a few calming breaths before continuing. When the girl's eyes darted toward her, Quinn just offered a simple nod and smile, letting her know San had as much time as she needed, that it was okay.

"Anyway, five minutes into glee, Artie talked shit about me, and that had Puck asking who...who was the best I'd ever had. I guess he was confident he was mine, but I immediately said Britt, which...well, you can imagine what happened. Artie freaked, which is stupid since he knew I was into girls too. Puck, though, asked if me and her wanted a threesome, and..." Santana stopped there, and Quinn knew the girl had hit a wall, given how her hands had stopped their massaging, and how tightly closed her eyes were. Usually, Santana could do just about anything while her hands massaged people. So for her to stop had her thinking she'd frozen up.

"And you told him you were a lesbian." Quinn interjected after a few seconds of silence from the trembling girl, taking the opportunity to shift to sit right beside Santana, deciding hand-holding was safer than a hug at the moment. Santana immediately squeezed hers in a vice-grip, but it was different than before. She could feel the need in Santana's fingers as they roughly clutched at her; it was a request, not a punishment.

It was Quinn slightly leaning against Santana that seemed to give the girl strength enough to continue. "Everyone knows. And...and I covered my ears, but I still heard some things, and it took everything in me to speak in Spanish instead of English so no one could understand, because they knew. They knew, and they didn't support me, they didn't do the regular gleek shit about saying it's okay and it didn't change anything. They just kept asking questions, they...no one cared." Santana choked out, squeezing Quinn's hand so hard she thought there may be a fresh fracture if it was clenched once more in a similar way. "Like, they cared, they cared enough to gossip, to pry, but they didn't care about me, Q. They didn't."

Quinn felt the sob bursting through Santana before it left the girl's chest, and pulled her in for a hug, knowing San needed one. Knowing that more than anything else, she wanted to hold her and convince her everything would be alright, something that from how San shook and whimpered in her arms was not considered a possibility to her friend.

"Rachel promised to lock them down, San. Britt took their phones. I won't lie, word might get out, but I'd kill before I let anyone lay a finger on you." Quinn spoke with all sincerity, her words hushed and slightly muffled against Santana's raven locks. The crying girl just nodded against her cheek, and Quinn couldn't push away all the urges rushing inside of her, traitorous soft lips finding the top of San's head in a hopefully comforting kiss. "Your mom and dad will still love you. Your mom especially."

That seemed to catch San's attention, the girl shifting her face so that her nose poked at Quinn's cheek, a brief pocket of air between Santana's lips and her cheek as the girl rested tightly against her."What...what do you mean? H...how do you know?"

Quinn just smiled at the absurdly awkward memory, feeling a little better about it given its potential to smooth out the girl's recovery process. "I ran into her three days after dying my hair and changing my look. You know your mom, she's kind of the type to judge books by their covers." Quinn noted quietly, a smile on her face at remembering the shock on Maribel's face. Santana nodded, giving her a prompt to continue. "I was at the grocery store, and she insisted she tag along with me while we both got what we needed. And eventually she brought you up after we talked about some chili recipe."

Santana groaned at the comment, something Quinn took to be a reaction to having either been assaulted by many talks of chili recipes, or to her mother talking about her in public.

"Anyway, she was worried about our friendship. Wanted to make sure we were still close. I assured her we were, and then she...she started her less than subtle roundabout way of insinuating that if my change was because I was a lesbian, that I was welcome to come by whenever for 'play dates' with you, that you could use some company, and that if I was interested in seeing some movies, she had some free vouchers we could use." Quinn recounted with a grin, cherishing the embarrassed groan from Santana, who, after the shock settled, attempted to pull away. Quinn, however, had other plans. "No need to be embarrassed, San. Besides, I haven't told you what I said back to her."

Santana, however, slipped away from Quinn, leaving about two inches between them as the girl wiped at her face. "No need, blondie. And of course there is, I'm gonna kill her." San muttered petulantly, not sounding at all angry, so that was a good sign.

"Nah, you'll hug her. You're no softie, but with them, you're predictable. Whereas I'm not predictable at all. Not anymore." Quinn asserted with a confident smile that had Santana appearing a little suspicious and curious.

"You didn't take the vouchers, did you?" Santana asked quietly after a few seconds, and Quinn, holding her smile, reached into her nearby purse and pulled them out. They were a little wrinkled, but still perfectly intact.

"Never know when they could come in handy." She stated wryly, before slipping them back in for safe keeping. "Anyway, the point is, your mom seems to suspect the truth about you, and she's more than fine with it. And I know your mom tells your dad everything, and they're a well oiled machine, so there's no way she'd be so...well, aggressive if he wasn't on board too." She insisted, and while Santana did smile a little, it was a sad one, and fresh tears were back, brimming in those deep brown eyes of hers.

Santana reached for the forgotten throw pillow and hugged it to her chest for a few tense, silent moments. "My abuela might hate me, Q. And I'm not sure I can handle that. She...she helped raise me, I love her, and...and if she leaves me, I don't...I can't..."

Quinn once more reached and took San's hand, offering a light squeeze that was immediately reciprocated. "IF that happens, we'll cross that bridge together. You're not alone, San."

"I am, though! God, Britt's basically never gonna touch me again. Berry, despite being not-so-secretly bi, is way too scared to even come near me if she was single. I'm gonna be alone here, Q, and what if I'm stuck here? What if I can't get out of this shit hole? Even if I can, I was the worst non-girlfriend girlfriend to B, and I'd mess people up because I'm too...I'm too scared of what people say about me, and all that shit." Santana choked out as tears slipped down her already reddened cheeks once more, that slim, soft hand clutching Quinn's like a lifeline. "I'm no good, Q."

Quinn couldn't help herself when those three last words were spoken. She'd held back on Santana under the pretense that maybe it would be a rash decision to put herself out there so early, but if it would help San from dumping her self-worth into a ravine, she'd do it.

And so, she scooted over to beside the girl and once more leaned her weight against San. "Ask me two questions and I'll tell you...prove to you why you are good." She promised, her pleading gaze piercing Santana's resigned sadness enough to seemingly pique the girl's interest. They'd been delving into deep shit for a while now, and Quinn knew Santana loved to deflect and distract, so it was predictable when San began grinning like a devil.

"So, when you said you were into something different earlier, what exactly did you mean?" Santana asked, and despite the hint of malicious curiosity in her voice, Quinn knew Santana wouldn't ask her that unless she was willing to answer in some form.

And Quinn had been, and had banked on the prediction that Santana would use one of her two questions on something along those lines. "Well, like you said, Puck's a dog, and likes it that way. And I'm not real into that." Quinn started, pulling her hand free of Santana's before slipping off of the window seat and moving toward her bed. "And for a while, all I knew was that. But I did some...soul searching lately, and figured out what I am into." She finished, crawling onto her bed and sitting up against her headboard.

Her eyes soon found Santana's intrigued ones, spotting the curiosity there, and feeling gleeful about the confusion present as well. "I started to experiment, you know? But there I was, just finished junior year and sexually inexperienced except for one night when I was nearly blackout drunk. I might have started feeling a bit more like the girl I am today, but I wasn't about to grab some random. My body was enough unknown territory for me, starting off." She continued, trying not to sound too sultry, or too excited about how Santana's gaze was darkening ever so slightly. "I found that fingers were a LOT nicer than the clumsy meat-stick Puck unceremoniously shoved into me. More than a month later, they're still my weapon of choice."

Santana sat there in shock for a few moments before breaking out into laughter, though her face had already been far too flushed for her to simply find it all amusing. "Never thought I'd see the day where you'd confess to masturbating, but...wow, how quickly you grow up, Q. Made me feel like a proud mami."

Quinn allowed herself a chuckle at that as she spread her legs a little wider. Her skirt had been pretty damn short today, and it wasn't surprising to see San's pupils track the motion for a brief second before darting away. "Fingers aren't just for masturbating, Mami." She noted offhandedly, purposefully trying to goad Santana into a reaction. The girl's jaw dropping confusion was certainly enough of one. "Anyway, one question left. Use it wisely."

Santana's brow furrowed in thought as she got up to her feet, slowly moving to pace at the end of the bed. Quinn watched at the girl seemed to agonize over potential questions, clearly shutting down one after the other, desiring some collection of words that would provide her with all the answer she wanted.

"Why'd you help me today?" Santana asked eventually, and it was a little anticlimactic, because that was to be the topic of discussion AFTER the second question. She supposed San was impatient, or maybe hadn't trusted Quinn to prove her 'goodness' to her.

Quinn patted the area of the bed beside her at the question, and Santana obediently took her position, making the decision to lie down and prop her head up on the pillows Quinn had pushed aside in making room for sitting.

"For a lot of reasons, none all that simple, I guess. I may look different now, and even be different, but first and foremost, you never lost me as a friend. You were there for me down the stretch last year, and that meant a lot, and when I saw you freaking out, I just knew I had to help you get somewhere safe." She answered softly, running a hand through Santana's thick hair, drawing a contented hum from the girl.

"And then, after that, there's the fact that everyone deserves privacy. And then there's the fact that I had a feeling about what might have happened, and needed for you to be okay and know you had people backing you." She continued, feeling Santana nod underneath her hand, which was nice considering San wasn't interjecting or laughing. "And then I guess there's the fact that I didn't want the vouchers to go to waste, and that you have a cute ass."

Quinn didn't feel or see Santana stiffen, nor did she feel anxiety emanate from the girl. Just a lingering sense of confusion that was verified as she watched Santana's eyes shift from side to side as if the girl was having some internal debate to clear her confusion.

Her patience, worn thin, felt that there were better things for the both of them to do, so Quinn slipped off the bed and grabbed those damn movie vouchers again, before returning to kneel at San's bedside. It was a series of movements that eventually drew the girl's attention enough for Quinn to smile down at Santana and brush her hair behind her ear like she'd wanted to for months.

"You don't have to be alone here, San. I think you'd be surprised at who'd be interested." She whispered, trying to hold her composure, because she seriously wanted to duck forward and crash her lips against San's, but it just wasn't her decision. Santana needed that control, at least in that moment.

Santana's eyes slowly shifted to focus on the movie vouchers, face shifting from an expression of confusion to something Quinn desperately wanted to describe as a hopeful sort of awe. "Q..." San started, biting her lip as she turned her gaze back up at Quinn's hazel eyes."You...you said you weren't that into...I don't..."

"San, Britt was there, and I love her, but...she does nothing for me. But she would've wanted to 'help' if things had gone that way, too. But you..." She spoke, smiling softly as Santana's eyes widened. "I've wanted to kiss you for so long it makes my head hurt just thinking about how in denial I was. And maybe, if you're interested...Captain America's still playing, and..."

Santana chuckling saved Quinn from continuing her increasingly nervous rambling, allowing her to just kneel there and wait for whatever answer San would give. She hoped it would be positive. Kissing San breathless in the middle row of an empty theater was sort of a recurring fantasy of hers.

"You're such a goober, Fabgay." Santana mumbled, eyes slipping closed as she shook her head. If not for the smile or warm vocal tone, Quinn might have been a little bit devastated. Instead, her heart felt as if it'd beat out of her chest at any moment, only to seize when San took hold of her hand. "Sure, I'll see your superhero movie with you. But only if you promise me two things."

Quinn struggled not to seem desperate as she leaned closer to Santana, needing to know what she had to do to get her crush out with her for the night. "Of course, San. Anything."

Santana's grin widened substantially at that, clearly about to take the piss out of her for something, but Quinn didn't care. She loved when Santana would be snarky and witty, and she'd happily endure teasing if it kept her close to the girl. "Great poker face there, Q. I'm gonna take advantage of you one day if you keep that up." San joked, and Quinn could only roll her eyes at Santana's predictability. Of course the cheerleader would take advantage of her one day, but it'd never be anything egregiously humiliating or embarrassing. "But okay, first thing? You're on the hook for popcorn tonight, blondie."

Quinn nodded, feeling perfectly happy to spend a few dollars on popcorn given Santana's mom had provided her with the free passes. It just wouldn't do to ask San out and not spend a dime while her date bought them snacks. "Of course."

"And second..." San started, propping herself up on her elbows, elevating her face closer to Quinn's. "I could really use a kiss right now."

It was proof of fortune shining on her when Quinn managed not to go breathless at the request. "Well who am I to deny you, Mami?" She answered with a playful smile, wasting no time in closing the distance between them and pillowing Santana's upper lip between hers almost chastely. Because yeah, a large part of her mind wanted to devour Santana as soon as possible, but the girl deserved better than that. They both kind of did.

Thankfully, Santana seemed to have no issue with it, bringing up a hand to comb through Quinn's hair and grab a hold of some; she had no issue letting San set the pace for them both, entirely pleased with peppering the girl beneath her with soft, lingering kisses until the end of time.

Quinn wasn't sure when Santana nudged her to get onto the bed with her, time having sort of lost its meaning to her for a while there, but it was only more enthralling to straddle San and run her fingers up and down the girl's sides.

"This isn't just...just a distraction, right?" Santana breathed out between a kiss, stilling Quinn on top of her in confusion, not understanding why the girl would ask such a thing. "I mean you're not just doing this because of what happened today, right?"

The warring sadness and hope in Santana's eyes was almost too much to bear for her, always having hated seeing the raven-haired girl upset. "It might have taken me a little longer to confess, but this is real, San. I want to take you to the movies, and feed you my cold leftover pizza, and hang out in my window... just enjoying being in each other's space, you know? I want to kiss you in every way I can think of, and feel your hands exploring me, and I know you think I'm a goober, but I want to be your goober."

Santana pulled her down once more, planting a ghost of a kiss against her nose. "A simple no would have sufficed, you weirdo."

"Yeah, but it's rule seventeen of the goober handbook that I have to take every opportunity to dramatically confess my feelings." Quinn shot back with a grin before sliding down on top of Santana and getting comfy. A huff and a nudge had her sliding off the girl, curling up against her side instead, enjoying San's arm wrapped around her waist. "Think you can live with that?"

"What, with Quinn Fabray being open and honest for a change?" Santana joked, and while it did sting a little thinking about those wasted years of self-inflicted torment, it was nice to hear Santana be so light-hearted and calm about it, as if it wasn't going to be an issue anymore. Which, Quinn hoped it wouldn't be. She'd do her best. "Yeah, I could totally live with that, blondie."

The slight downturn in Santana's voice had Quinn thinking the girl's thoughts had shifted to what OTHER new things she'd have to live with, so she took the risk and decided to just bring it up, for better or worse. "You'll live through whatever happens, San. You're stronger than you know, and together, we'll be fine, whether you're out or not. We can take things one step at a time...Rachel's going to call later, and we'll work out a plan for tomorrow. I'll make some dinner, and then we can relax and see Captain America kick ass before I drop you off at home."

Santana nodded slowly, her arm pulling Quinn a tiny bit closer in response, which was a pretty great feeling. "Sounds like you've got this all worked out, Q-ball."

"Well, when you've watched as much Pinky & the Brain as I have, you're bound to pick up something." Quinn mumbled, enjoying Santana's warmth and how right it felt being in her arms. She knew she'd have to move eventually, but it was something that she wouldn't particularly look forward to, to put it mildly.

"So what, we're gonna take over the world now that you've gained some smarts, Pinky?" Santana asked, the vibrations in her chest telling Quinn the girl was holding back giggles. As IF she'd be Pinky. Even if she DID have pink hair.

"Har har, San. For a girl that's been calling me blondie despite my current head of pink, I'm curious how you'd get to be the Brain." She snarked back with a grin against Santana's neck.

"Buy me some chocolate covered raisins at the movie tonight and I'll let you carry the name on odd-numbered days every month." Santana offered, clearly extortion, but extortion she was willing to bow to for the moment if it'd make San happier.

Quinn pressed her lips against Santana's jaw and snuggled in a bit closer, internally deciding there was at least an hour and a half before Rachel would get a hold of her, and there was nowhere she'd rather be than exactly where she was at the moment. "You strike a hard bargain, but deal. No take backs."

"Never." Santana whispered with a smile in her voice, and it was about as good of a confession that despite the way the day began, Santana knew she would be okay.

And that was proof enough of a job well done. That she managed to somehow get the girl in the end had Quinn reconsidering her future prospects past high school. Her grades weren't incredible, but it was still early. In her mind's eye, she could see the two of them walking around in some east coast city, enjoying a lunch together, maybe walking a dog, and it was enough to set a personal reminder to check out college and university admissions stuff later. Because maybe Lima was still a shit hole, but she didn't need to succumb to it. Not when she had her best friend holding her close and making her feel like a nervous thirteen year old girl again.

No, if Quinn could help it, she and Santana would leave their baggage back in Lima after graduation. And that meant conquering it first, but together, she had a feeling they could achieve some pretty great things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This one's a bit rough but it sat around for about a month before I first published it, so I figured It'd be best to just air it out. It started off as a quirky idea, but then I thought about it, and the glee universe just isn't magical. And this kind of scenario would very likely freak the hell out of a person, so I decided to take a more comfort/hurt approach to this one. Always fun to do a Quinntana piece, no matter the tone, anyway :)


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